Knight on a White Horse
by Equitas Invictus
Summary: A young Estovakian pilot bids his love goodbye… with a promise. Drawn into a wide scope of conflicts, the pilot learns how hard it is to attain one's true wishes under circumstance. From this emerges a story transcending storybook chivalry.
1. Prologue

I remember parting with her on that hill under the luminous and starry night sky. So many aspects of that memorable evening left me in awe, questioning myself as to why I decided to leave the place of my birth – and most especially, the woman I loved. Out of all the images I can recall upon most vividly of her grief, the one that still haunts me to this day was the moment I had to let go of her.

Her beauty that night surpassed the radiance that any star could provide. We didn't talk much while we were on that hill; we didn't need to. I held her very tightly in my arms, as I knew it'd be the last time I would be able to for a very long time. As the seconds seemed to stretch on towards eternity, I felt the pain of leaving her hit me as waves on the rock during high-tide. Before I could even find it in me to cry, an unnatural light began to emanate behind us. I knew what it was, but I wished that it never came.

"It's time," I explained, still holding on to her.

She remained silent for a few seconds, but I could feel a few droplets of tears fall onto the side of my neck, curving down painfully and slowly along my shoulders, and finally falling down past my chest.

"I know you'll be shouldering a lot up there, but can you bear one more simple request from me?" Her low, soft voice whispered to me.

Without hesitation I replied, "Of course. Anything for you."

"Please come home to me. Please be my knight on a white horse," she cried.

I felt her tears stream down my body more rapidly.

"Don't worry. I'll come home for you. I don't want to be a hero for anyone else… just you. That's why I'm going to survive out there. I want to come back to you. I want us to be happy again. But…" As the light behind us became much brighter, I knew that I didn't have much time left.

"I know… you have to go now, right?" Although I was nearly paralyzed by the height of her pain, her tears stopped.

She wanted to be strong for me.

"I'll wait for you. Until the very end," her soft voice spoke again as she held me even tighter.

"I love you." I let go, and turned around towards the car that just stopped behind us.

Although our distance grew greater and greater, I could still hear her tender voice reply, "I love you, too."

The driver of the beaten up, old pickup truck I entered gave me a brief, respectful nod as I entered the passenger seat of the vehicle. He slowly began to maneuver the car in a u-turn back towards the way he came. As we drove away, I kept my eyes on my one and only love. The sight of her alone broke my heart. Her long, blond hair blew along with what was then a gentle wind, and streaks of tears began to glide down her delicate face once again.

And that was the last I saw of her. A rapidly growing screeching sound caught my attention as I knew something was drawing closer to where we were driving. As the noise grew to its maximum volume, I saw, at a near-instant, a fiery plane briskly descend from the night sky, crashing on the road behind us, and ending my last sight of Melinda.

* * *

It's been two years, and since then I've been in training to become a combat pilot for Estovakia, my home country. Although I was a simple working class man prior to this meaningless war with our bordering country, Emmeria, a draft was instated, and I was enlisted to the desperate Air Force, having lost continuous dogfights in the campaign against Emmeria, a surprising turn of events considering the history of some of our pilots.

I didn't think I was much of a pilot, but I really had no other choice. Through my training I was constantly conscious of what may happen to me. Despite how much I hated war, and despite how much I was really sick and tired of flying, I just wanted to get everything over with and return to the one I loved. I guess that's how my superiors began to recognize me as a "capable" pilot, although I really don't find myself, by any means, capable.

Although by the time my training was completed, the war with Emmeria was pretty much over and lost, our officers still kept us. They warned us that there were certain places where people began to rebel against our "glorious" government in a coup d'état. We were also informed that we'd be flying operations in our own soil, against some of our own people as a way to stop this coup d'état. They didn't give us exact details, but once again, due to what kind of position and place we were in, we had no other choice but to listen. I was assigned to a high-end, frontline SU-47 Berkut squadron, Uhlan. The name was quite fitting, as we were, essentially, lancers for the military we were under. Seeing that our aircraft were coated white made me smile a little inside, thinking about the promise I made to my love. She wanted me to be her prince on a white horse, and with this one precursor of sorts, I felt even stronger about coming through with my promise, and ultimately returning to her. Regardless of this, I was also very concerned at the fact we'd be fighting on our own soil and perhaps against some of our own cities.

If there ever was a time I prayed to god, it was then. I wanted my wife to be completely safe from harm throughout the impending conflict, and I prayed that there'd never be any kind of military operation going on around the area we lived.

The evening before my first deployment, I was restless and torn apart bearing the promise I made to Melinda, and the duties expected of me as a pilot of Estovakia.


	2. Chapter 1

"Listen up! This is our first sortie; if anyone dies here I'm pissing on your body bag!" the unusually loud squadron leader, Captain Volkov, shouted abruptly and energetically through the radio.

For a veteran ace and a squadron leader, Captain Volkov, who never disclosed his first name to me or to anyone I knew, was a vigorously vulgar man and lacked likable values. Regardless, he really was an excellent soldier and a remarkable mentor back while I was training with him. Honestly, I looked up to him. He wasn't a model "hero," but his unconventional methods were, so as to say, "badass."

A sigh followed the Captain's brief, rushed statement, "Damn it Volkov, you really don't know how to shut up. Anyway, for all of you newbies out there on your first sortie, I'm the AWACS of this here battalion, Major Alexander Ivanov. I'll being giving you radar and mission support here from the sidelines-"

"-because you're a pussy!" Volkov went off in an awkward kind of cheer.

"I'll just forget I heard that. Okay, there isn't much to our first sortie. Apparently, earlier today, national affairs have escalated with a few of the northern Estovakian states jointly declaring themselves independent from Estovakia and have stated their intentions of 'liberating the country from the military dictatorship of the Generals.' Although those regions are lacking in military bases to use for their ground forces, they're apparently going to centralize their military operations from their airbases. Intelligence reports have revealed that a fleet of An-124 Condor cargo aircraft has been launched from a major industrial city, likely transporting tanks and other military goods to bolster the rebel effort. It appears, from what intelligence we have, that they are not projected to rendezvous with military escort from the airbase they're delivering to for another 15 minutes, so this is the best opportunity to strike. Estovakia's intelligence is very reliable and accurate, so seriously expect minimal to no resistance. Actually, your R-77 missiles should make short work of those cargo planes. Consider this target practice compared to what you'd really be experiencing with us," the Major straightforwardly briefed us before explaining, "They're almost in range. Lock on if you please, but do not fire until the order to engage has been-"

The Captain's voice abruptly surmounted Ivanov's instruction, "I've already got a lock, firing!"

"… Bastard. Whatever, engage," Ivanov gave in to the Captain's outstanding energy, "I'd reprimand you if I didn't owe you my god damn life plus some, Volkov!"

I began to lock on to a cargo plane myself, before I saw the Captain's white Berkut reflect the rays of the late afternoon's sun, giving off a majestic, silvery glow. Seeing it shine as it broke out of formation made me feel proud to be in his squad, but I then realized that I should really be more aware as to why he just broke off of formation.

"What the hell! My missile warning alarm went off. They're firing back!" complained the Captain, as if getting fired at was an everyday thing for him.

The Major's voice shifted towards concern, "What? That can't be right… wait a minute! I've just read some bogeys on my radar! They must be fighter jets carrying R-77s, too. I mean, if they weren't I would have had my radar reading them a long time ago."

"Damn it, it'd be a waste to engage them back with these long-range R-77s that are supposed to be for the cargo planes. Uhlan squadron, unload your R-77s at whatever transport planes you can and follow me! We'll be doing some housecleaning today," Volkov gave us our first orders for combat.

I locked on to a An-124s I couldn't actually see and fired. Despite me not seeing them, missiles and radars seem to have become incredibly convenient nowadays. I had no doubt my missiles would make their mark.

"Uhlan 3 just downed a few cargo planes." The Major confirmed, "Hey Volkov, you seriously better deal with those MiGs soon, they might gunning for me!" 

"Listen up Uhlan squad; you really don't have too many missiles to spare, obviously. Engage the enemy aircraft with your 30 millimeter cannons. They must be extremely quick planes to be able to break our '15 minute window of opportunity,' so engage with caution," that's the Captain I knew talking - despite the immediacy of the situation, he seemed to already have a grasp for it.

As derogatory the man could be at times, he really knew how to take the initiative no matter what was thrown at him. Being our combat instructor and more simply the ace he was, this kind of thinking was probably instinctual to him, now.

"Uhlan 3, pay attention! Break and follow me!" the Captain scolded me for my inaction at the moment.

My missile warning alarms suddenly went off, forcing me back to the reality of strife I had no other choice but to work through. I quickly rolled my plane to the right and began to follow the Captain, and from there the missile warning seemed to go away. I couldn't even see a missile in front of me, those missiles have an incredibly long range, but I guess that's its week point when it comes to being launched against other fighter aircraft.

"These guys may have good planes and equipment, but I can already tell they're bad at using them. They must be newbies like you, too. Just follow me and remember everything I've taught you and maybe you'll make it out of this. But if you get one of my nice Berkuts scratched or anything, I will beat the crap outta you back at barracks, understood?!" whether or not the Captain asked the absurd question on purpose, it seemed to lighten things up a little bit; my panic from earlier began to drift away, and I began to grasp the situation at hand.

"I've got a tally ho! Looks like 10 enemy MiG-1.44s - figures! They're good planes, but I'm confident your training and our Berkuts are enough to provide a little more than a match! Kick some ass, engage!" the Captain fired his only two R-73 short-range missiles, and they seemed to make contact with the lead aircraft in the enemy formation before they realized it was time for them to break.

The Captain's voice sounded a little confused, "What the hell? I hope that wasn't their captain I just downed, because that was just a pathetic show of skill… their break seems suggestive of straggling, so please don't take up too much of my time finishing them…"

I myself was already trailing one of the enemy MiG-1.44s. Although it seemed much faster than me, the pilot on it seemed to place a higher priority in trying to shake me off with garbage turns. I tore it up with my guns in about a minute of my useless pursuit of him, "downed one bogey!" 

"I seem to read only 4 more enemy fighters on my radar and they seem to be retreating; the cargo planes have already been taken care of by the other planes in this battalion. Uhlan squadron, reform with the formation and we'll RTB." Ivanov stated straightforwardly.

Before I began to turn my plane back towards the formation, a sudden, shower of lights from far ahead of me caught my attention. They were reminiscent of stars and caused me to drift into a reverie for a moment, remembering how my love used to always want to gaze at the stars with me every night.

"What the hell are those lights? My missile warning alarm just went off again! Damn it, I can't count everything coming towards us! Break like hell, it's going to be a bitch to evade!" for the first time ever, the Captain's voice seemed to fluctuate as if he was panicking.

I began to worry as my own missile warning alarm went off. Following the captain's plane in visible range of mine, I dropped my altitude as much as I could and began to accelerate my plane back towards the battalion. Suddenly, I caught swift rays of light zoom past above my plane and the captain's, tearing through certain planes in the battalion, and the other three planes in our squad.

"This is Uhlan 3! I lost control of my plane, I don't know what the hell to -" One of the Berkuts above me exploded, followed by several other planes in the actual formation. Two other Berkuts above me, struggling to descend to a similar altitude to mine also exploded. Their knightly, white coats were put to waste.

The combination of the unnatural rays of light ripping through the sky and the explosions tearing through the clouds was blinding, and I lost all sense of everything around me.

"Uhlan 4… Uhlan 4! Can you respond? Are you alive? I think you're behind me… We just lost the rest of our damn squad!" unexpectedly, Volkov's voice seemed overcome with anger and rage, "I can't believe it…. they were some of the best guys around and they just got torn up like that! Bullshit… those bastards! Once I find what and who caused all of that, I'm gonna fucking kill them!"

I was shocked at how quickly Volkov lost his cool. Considering how horrible the moment was, I don't think something like that has even happened to an ace like him. There is no doubt he felt defeated; despite accomplishing the mission, his losses were irreparable. Tanks and other military equipment can be quickly replaced, pilots cannot. Whoever conceived the idea was indeed a dangerous person to cause so much damage so quickly. I began to fear that the simple 'rebellion' was more than what was said about it.

"Damnit, Anton, chill out! We've all suffered losses today… Major Ivanov, here, to whoever is left… whatever the hell just happened, it seems to be over. We ourselves have suffered a few blows, but I think we can make it back to base. RTB immediately. That is all." Ivanov's voice also seemed to show an irregular amount of remorse - he even went as far as to address Volkov by his first name, I suspect he held some kind of understanding towards who my Captain was, they might have been comrades in a previous conflict…

"What the hell was that?" Another pilot questioned with an utterly shocked tone.

The return to base was incredibly quiet and felt like some kind of funeral procession. As the sun began set and the infinitely blue and boundless sky began to descend into darkness, I felt farther away from my love in distance and time than ever before. With what I saw today… will I ever be able to go home?


	3. Chapter 2

As I dismounted from the cockpit of my Berkut, I noticed Volkov a short distance away, standing upright in attention before the presence of what seemed like a superior officer. Having not yet fully identified said officer, I began to approach them.

"Honestly, sir! I can't find the words to describe what the hell happened out of there. It was the most dangerous light show I've ever seen in my life!" Volkov struggled to explain how nothing could have been done against what effortlessly obliterated half of the battalion.

The superior before him, an aged, gray-haired gentleman wearing a brown trench coat, an Estovakian emblem armband, and a silver eagle on his cap let out a sigh. His face, although aged, looked quite resolved; it was our Battalion Commander. Despite the insanity behind the Captain's seemingly poor excuse for an explanation, he had a suspicious amount of patience with him. He was the Colonel and our Battalion Commander, anyway, so he was probably levels above us in terms of military intelligence.

"Damn… No one thought they'd be done with the ADMM2s yet…" the Colonel's voice was filled with distress; I couldn't exactly get what he was talking about.

"Excuse me… sir?" the Captain was likewise clueless.

Although pausing, the Colonel seemed to swiftly clarify, "All Direction Multi-purpose Missile, the second build, or ADMM2s. While we were still a united Estovakia, we researched on advanced methods to force air superiority towards our favor, as we were losing personnel in the air force too quickly to replace. The brainchild of such research was the ADMM, a missile capable of splitting up into ten smaller, high-velocity radar-guided projectiles capable of making short work of any aircraft, despite how advanced and maneuverable some may be in the core. Despite our research, it was a very expensive project and we were only able to field one in the end. Even with all the resources we put to it's maiden flight, the aircraft possessing it was still downed… back in Gracemaria. The ADMM2 project was researched by the scientist who conceived the idea of the original ADMM, except he, apparently, was a northerner, and was reported AWOL several weeks ago. I have long suspected that he has defected Estovakia and has been working on its destruction for a while now. There's no doubt he was probably farther ahead in research for the ADMM2 than he reported to us, that's likely why it was done now, and if that's so…"

"…then this rebellion must have been premeditated," continued the Captain, "Damn it! What a joke! They must have known we weren't going to let them centralize so easily and used the air transport operation to draw us in. That means they must have centralized long ago!"

"Yes; I think the Generals' have anticipated something like this, and are already preparing for an immediate shift in the nation's aerial combat doctrine. I've received some very alarming letters from General Headquarters lately," admitted the Colonel.

"What the hell? And you never told me about this… sir?!" the Captain was trying very hard to work around his rage and avoid a reprimand from the Battalion Commander.

The Colonel let out another sigh before going on, "I didn't think it was very relevant to the present. I didn't think they were going ahead with things for a very long time, but with what's happened today… Ah - I've got to explain what'll be going on in the coming days. How many men are left in your Squad aside from yourself?"

"One," the Captain replied bluntly as he lowered his head in shame.

"That's actually good. They only had two. Anyway, we'll be taking your SU-47 Berkuts to more fully expand on its capabilities. In the meantime, you and your co-pilot are going to fly in the cockpit of highly experimental import aircraft. The aircraft is called the ADF-01 Falken; it far surpasses your SU-47 Berkut aircraft, and it's even more advanced than the experimental aircraft that held the original ADMM. You'll still be the 'Uhlan' squad, so consider this an upgrade. Besides, you two really need a bolster of force considering how much your squad has been cut down. The Uhlan squad was comprised of 'candidates' for our best pilots; I guess they've narrowed it down to two," the Colonel explained.

"Sir, where the hell are you going with this?!" the Captain demanded an answer.

The Colonel's aged face let out a shockingly twisted smile, "Don't worry. The Falken aircraft is a very operator-friendly aircraft, I have no doubt that you'll master it in due time. In any case, you should really use a few patrol sorties to get used to the Falken, it's quite the beast to tame. You won't be made to fly another combat sortie for a while, so seriously brush up. You'll be going places, and we'll only expect the best from you."

"What the hell… Sir, if you don't mind me asking, do you hold no value towards all the pilots in the battalion that just meaninglessly died out there today?!" the Captain could no longer go around his range.

Smiling still, the Colonel replied, "In this new age of technology, pilots are slowly becoming expendable. In war, we all have to make sacrifices. Those pilots were fully aware of what they got into as servicemen for the military of our glorious nation. I can no longer play ethics on behalf of people who don't need it while we ourselves are in pursuit of something much greater, and that is… the future!"

Those piercing words seemed to strike even me. I've never seen that side of the Colonel before; he seemed like an otherwise held-back man with no qualms. I guess people like that seem to hold much darker secrets.

"If you excuse me, the 1st Brigade is having a briefing tomorrow, and I'll have to prepare to present this information. Remember to have your report in by midnight, Captain, and I hope it's more comprehensive than what you presented to me earlier in your shock. Now that I've enlightened you, I'm sure you'll have a lot more to say! Detail, fall out." I'm not sure if the Colonel continued smiling, but he turned around and made his way back towards the airbase.

"Who the hell is that guy?" the Captain's head was still down, and his voice seemed as confused as I had ever heard it, even when compared with earlier today.

After a moment of nothingness under a seemingly abyssal night sky, the Captain picked up his head and faced towards me with his normal, cool composure, "Son, I've seen a lot of things down throughout my career as a fighter pilot. All I've got to say is that I've never seen or heard things go down like this until today. I can already tell we're in for a nice, hot mess. You'd better steel yourself for it. You're a pretty young guy to be the 'second-best' around here, I'm sure your head must be full of bullshit. I guess all young men are inevitably like that, but you'd better not let it take the best of you! If you ever die on me, I'll never forgive you!"

Getting past wondering whether he saw me more as "son" or "second-best," I gave him a sincere smile, "So I guess you've already gotten over the other three?"

"It's not the first time I've had pilots die. That war with Emmeria was crap. It's still something I can never forgive myself for. I may have shined back then, I may have made myself an Ace, but there were so many contemporaries I lost in order for me to complete the mission. In reality, it's what pilots like us are truly all about. You should have no regrets going to the battlefield, no matter what! It's just that… I thought I'd be able to atone for myself in this conflict… but that was stubborn of me, wasn't it? My mind was seriously split as I was talking to the Colonel, but despite how questionable he is, I think there's one thing he was right about."

"And what was that, Captain?" I asked him, interested.

Despite the amount of energy he put into his last statement, he seemed to lower his head again, "We really are fighting for the future by any and all means possible. With the amount of blood we've shed and will shed in the coming future, we'll eventually reach a point when the only thing left to agree on is that enough people have died. That's essentially what these wars have been about. I mean, thousands of years ago you've heard of millions or hundreds of thousands dying in single battles! At least, today, we can account for much fewer losses. Soon there'll be a point when we won't have to worry about losing anything anymore in war. I mean, if they already have things like the ADMM and this 'Falken,' they must also be working on better UCAVs!"

"You may be going somewhere with some of those points, but don't you think it's a little childish to think that there'll be a point when no one has to die in war, Captain? I mean, by making artificially intelligent and mechanized armies, I think the purpose of war would only take a backwards step and even more innocent people would die meaninglessly." I tried being as frank as I could be, despite having the same childish hopes, deep down inside.

"It is really childish," the Captain, with his head still down, frowned, "but what else is there for me to believe? I have no right to believe in what I've never actually fought for. For being what I've been all my life, for doing everything I've been doing all my life, there's only one thing I should really need to think about."

"Hm?"

"Completing the mission."

"I see."

"Honestly, son, I won't wish this dillema on you. You're a young guy and you still have a chance to lead a happy life. I've long lost that opportunity, but at least there's something greater for me to work for. I think that is the true penance for all of my sins, and the sins I will end up committing."

"Penance?"

"Yes, by completing the mission," the philosophy seemed long programmed in the Captain's reasoning.

I really did consider convincing him otherwise, but his argument seemed to show that there was nothing else I could do for him, except continue living as I was in order to follow his wishes.

"Son, it may be an awkward thing for a man like me to be telling you something like this, but go towards your own future over anyone else's, even mine - with certain exceptions, of course. If there's a mission we have to complete, and you're not in with it, I'll just give you a little kick in the ass to force you back into reality. It's nice to imagine a place in your head as you pursue your goal, but if you drift off in baseless reveries, especially with more pressing matters on top of you, you'll only get yourself killed. Understand?" the Captain opened up to me more than I could ever imagine he would.

"Understood, sir."

"Ah, don't give me any of that 'sir' bull. You're under my wing, anyway. I would've never opened up to anyone like this, but I felt a need to this time. After all, you're the only one I'm left with," admitted the Captain.

"Oh, so that makes me some kind of backdoor for your 'atonement'?" I humorously suggested.

Volkov picked up his head again, and smiled, "Something like that. Get some rest, son."

"Will do… definitely."

The Captain and I went our separate ways, as our quarters were in completely opposite directions. Right before I entered my quarters, I took time to look up at the starless void of night that seemed to steal the sky I once knew and loved. Without doubt, I'm truly far from home.

_Love, I'll bring back the starry sky. I promise..._

Back in my quarters, I began to write a letter to my wife, as I have always done on a weekly basis.


	4. Chapter 3

- - -

"I hate this graveyard shift business! They should be paying me extra for this…"

Colonel Mikhailov was a base commander overseeing the first line of defense against the rebellion expanding throughout Northwestern Estovakia, confirmed to be a revival of the Lyes United Front. Being the base commander, Mikhailov was responsible for the safety of all the pilots and aircraft housed in the base. With the Central Estovakian Defense Brigade force being present as a precautionary measure in case of a Lyes invasion, he faced an even heavier burden then usual. For that reason he took it upon himself to not only go about his responsibilities as the base commander, but also oversee that his control room staff was monitoring everything going on in a five-hundred mile radius west.

"Can you believe those guys are back for more? To think they were seriously putting issues aside after the Civil War for the 'better of Estovakia' in 'helping out' our takeover of Emmeria. They might have lent us a few of their Ace pilots, but otherwise they made no contribution! It was our own youth from the South and the East who took the bulk of the fighting over in the frontlines! Even my son…"

Mikhailov was an embittered old man. Although he was one of Estovakia's top aces and battalion commanders during the Estovakian Civil War, he declined taking over the command role over the Aggressor Brigade that lead the assault on Gracemaria, believing his age had caught up with him. Instead he took a desk job in central Estovakia which was, ironically, now caught up in the heat of things. With the loss of his son, shot down over Gracemaria several of months ago in the Emmerian counterattack, Mikhailov began to regret not taking part in the campaign, believing he could have saved his son that way.

"I'll never forgive those Lyes bastards…"

Lieutenant Dorvic, a young man also apart of the control room staff, had never felt comfortable around his base commander. Sharing the graveyard shift with the Colonel this time around made him feel even more uneasy and tense than usual.

"It'll be okay," he whispered to himself, "he won't do anything to you as long as you don't screw up…"

Suddenly, on the radar console before him, several of unknowns appeared moving from the west. He immediately realized it was an enemy attack, and was left paralyzed in fear, "S-sir… you might want to take a look at this…"

Dorvic closed his eyes in fear as he heard the rash, loud footsteps of his superior coming from behind him.

"Damn it!" the Colonel exclaimed, then picking up a telephone from the console adjacent to the radar console, "This is the Base Commander. A massive movement of enemy aircraft has been detected five-hundred miles west of the airbase - it's most likely an attack! We're scrambling all aircraft! All takeoff personnel report to your posts on the double and prepare for takeoff procedures. First Battalion of the Central Estovakian Defense Brigade, report to the main hangar, board your aircraft, and launch immediately. The rest of the brigade is also recommended to board their aircraft now and prepare for takeoff procedures. Upon takeoff, gain altitude as quickly as you can and prepare to engage the enemy forces. We do not know the full quantity of the enemy forces at this time, so prepare for anything. The AWACS of the Central Estovakian Defense Brigade will remain grounded for the convenience of all other fighter aircraft scrambling; all radar surveillance, command, control, battle management, and ESM will be headed by the airbase staff. Further orders will be relayed to all pilots after the entire first battalion has completed takeoff. Godspeed, everyone."

The Colonel went on to push a button on another console a few feet away, activating a warning alert system all throughout the airbase, including the control tower.

"I know it's hard, Dorvic, but focus. See if you can get any more information on the approaching aircraft," Mikhailov quietly spoke to his subordinate.

Despite how shaken he was and how irritated the alarms usually made him, Dorvic pulled himself together and gave his superior a sure nod. He wanted to do his best; although he felt extremely tense around the Colonel, he was more than confident on Mikhailov's ability to command. Dorvic did not want to let his superior down.

The next thing he would see on his radar, however, broke all certainty he tried so hard to build up.

"What the - there's so many of them!" Dorvic panicked in a near scream.

Aware of how uneasy Dorvic immediately became, the Colonel quickly approached the radar console. He himself was left speechless at the countless amounts of small dots that were approaching in very fast speeds. Making his way to the window facing the west, the Colonel then felt powerless at the spectacle of unnatural lights before him.

Starburst.

- - -

"Preparing aircraft for High-Velocity Outfitting Procedures," I announced on the radio, having the colossal, flying cruiser in sight.

"This is the Midair Refilling Platform H-VO X Crete, the platform's current velocity is 300 mph." Another voice responded.

For the past few weeks I have gotten used to the ADF-01 Falken over my daily military exercises. Things have otherwise become quiet between the Lyes movement and The Generals' Estovakia, so I nearly forgot about my horrible experience from a few weeks ago.

I'm still amazed at how advanced the aircraft is. If I don't handle it right, however, I could easily get myself killed.

One of the outstanding abilities of this aircraft is the ability to rearm and refuel in under ten minutes by using Estovakia's experimental H-VO Xs, flying platforms based on a past airborne command cruiser design that are now equipped to outfit aircraft inside of it.

"This is Uhlan 2, I have achieved plus-1 relative velocity and have switched on aircraft to autopilot, currently 100 yards away from entering the platform," this was my first time using the H-VO, so I was somewhat excited.

"Affirmative."

As my Falken slowly entered the platform, I was surprised to see how small the area itself was. I could hardly imagine flying into something like this manually - I'd probably crash.

"Your aircraft has attained zero-relative velocity. We're activating the extenders; please power down your aircraft, Uhlan 2. You will receive further instruction from the aircraft maintenance staff."

While the extenders attached to my ADF-01, I could feel a brief, sudden shake. I then realized it should be time that I power down my aircraft and leave the rest up to the maintenance staff. I noticed the aerial platform's doors closing behind and in front of me, allowing the maintenance staff to enter the area using an elevator coming from the upper levels of the aircraft.

A few moments later, I saw a ladder hit the side of my cockpit. A man then climbed the ladder and knocked on my cockpit. I lifted it up.

"What's up?" I casually asked the middle-aged, bald man with an interesting, English moustache.

"Outfitting your aircraft won't take too long, but that's not why I'm here. I've actually been told to relay orders to you."

"That's a little weird isn't it?"

"Well, I guess it's more convenient for the brass. Anyway, some urgent things have come up."

"What do you mean?"

"Apparently, the Lyes United Front has taken full authority over the political and military infrastructure in the north and western regions of Estovakia. Having obtained the military facilities in those areas, they've already mounted a full-scale invasion against us. They're trying to completely overthrow The Generals, I'm guessing. Anyway, we have an airbase a hundred miles away in Central Estovakia that seems to be their first target, and 25 of our air force's current strength is based there. Although they've managed to scramble some of their aircraft, a lot of the airbase was destroyed in a missile attack made in anticipation of the assault, including the control tower and radar. They were also unable to scramble their AWACS on time, so our forces there are in quite a predicament. Having no ESM or any kind of effective control guiding them, whoever is left there seem to be in a crisis situation. We cannot afford them to let them fight and die in vain. They're completely unprepared. Your orders are to fly over there, allow whatever forces are left there to retreat, and fight off as much of the preliminary invasion force as you can. Don't stick around too long though, because although your Falken is an advanced aircraft, it'll probably succumb very easily to their numbers. Not only that, but at one point they may even go as far as to launch starburst against you. Once they figure out you're flying a prototype for us, they'll probably use extraordinary measures to get you downed to collect intelligence from your remains."

"Oh, so they've already given that thing a name, now?"

"Well, yeah. It seems like my guys are done, you know how you're getting out of here, right? First we clear out of the area via the elevator, and then they'll star raising the platform's doors. From there you'll have to power up and slowly accelerate your plane so that the extenders can disengage and you can safely exit the platform. Once you're a good distance away, you'll be leaving towards your objective destination immediately."

"I got it, thanks."

"Good luck."

The man, who was also probably the chief of the maintenance staff, gave me my helmet a good pat. Afterwards he closed my cockpit for me and began to climb down the ladder. A few moments later the ladder was gone and I saw the maintenance personnel reenter the elevator lifting them back up and out of the outfitting area of the platform.

After I realized they were fully past the ceiling, I power up my ADF-01 Falken. I saw the platform doors open before me and I prepared to accelerate my aircraft.

"Outfitting procedures complete, you're clear to go. Good luck." The voice of the platform's radio operator spoke one last time.

Slowly accelerating the plane out of the platform, I began to realize that it's already been a couple of weeks since my first combat situation. Recalling on the tension I experienced during my first operation, I felt my stomach begin to turn. I even thought I was going to lose my consciousness, until I heard a familiar voice on the radio.

"Let's not waste any time, son."


	5. Chapter 4

Thick smoke and a mesh of contrails clouded the night sky before me, and even at the relatively high altitude my plane had been, I still had no clear view of the starry sky. 

"Aircraft rapidly approaching a few miles east from here! They must be ours! We're saved!" One of the younger pilots went off on a very short-lived celebration, "Wait… there's only two… oh, fuck, we're still screwed, aren't we?"

Captain Volkov let out a nice laugh, "You hear that, Uhlan 2? They sound quite happy to see us! Let's show them how it's done."

"Looks like there are some other enemy squads trying to get into this little furball - in formation, even! I'm getting them, called it!"

I switched on my Falken's laser and shot it straight towards the enemy formation, ripping it up almost instantly.

"You're no fun, how about we do this the old fashioned way?" firing four missiles at once, the Captain effectively ended what was left of the small-scale furball between the survivors of the Central Estovakian Defense Brigade and a few planes belonging to the Lyes' United Air Force.

"That's it?" The Captain's voice sounded a little uneasy, reminiscent of a few weeks ago…

"This is Lieutenant Colonel Bezmel, commander of the First Battalion from the CED Brigade, many thanks, but I'm sure that's not all of them," a young voice spoke on the radio, "We've lost a lot of pilots in the preliminary missile strike, I can't believe they tore up the airbase so easily…"

"You sound a little too much of a kid to be Battalion Commander. This isn't your fight anymore; you should leave this airspace and go home," the Captain explained with a soft voice.

"I don't care if you're even one of those god damned Generals responsible for this god forsaken mess, I cannot comply. My home is only miles off this airbase… my family…"

"Don't you get it? The airbase has been completely destroyed! The Base Commander was probably killed in the missile strike, too! There's nothing we can do…" The Captain's voice sounded sincerely sympathetic for once.

"Nope… not killed… This is the Base Commander of Kiev Airbase, Colonel Mikhailov, I'm taking off. Dorvic, you're sure that you can handle the backseat of one of these things, right?" a ripened voice could be heard from the radio.

"What the hell?" asked the Captain.

"Colonel Mikhailov, here. The enemy might have pulled a fast one and their cowardly missile strikes might have left our airbase a mess, but messes like these can be quickly cleaned. The runway isn't too badly damaged and I still managed to pick up my old Typhoon T1 from one of the hangars. Their missile attack, although deadly, seems to be highly inaccurate when fired on the ground. They only managed to damage the control tower enough to cut off communications, and they only managed to sever the wired link between the control tower and radar. The radar and control tower are actually intact; they just aren't connected to anything, and maybe not power."

"Well that radar is connected to something now. AWACS, callsign Peacock, here. Your control tower might be cut off from it but it looks like it's still powered. If you don't mind, I'll be utilizing the Kiev Airbase Radar to monitor the enemy's movements. The second wave of enemy aircraft seems to be approaching fast; it's much larger than what you guys just took care of. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" I heard Ivanov's voice for the first time in a while.

"That you, Alexander? Hah! You have quite a pathetic callsign. Anyway, I've been born for this kinda stuff; I'm just not sure about these CED folks and Old Geezer over there."

"Shut up." Both Mikhailov and Major spoke at once in response to the Captain.

"Whatever. If you want to join in the fight, go ahead. But don't get in my way." Volkov gravely stated.

I saw his red-coated Falken several of meters to the right of me begin to accelerate.

"Hey son, the Crete's going to be joining us in several of minutes, so feel free to fire away. I'll probably be running out of ammo first, so until I'm done with my ammo and until I'm back from the Crete, you'd better hold things down. From then on, we'll take turns going back and forth to rearm."

"Roger that."

"Bezmel here, tally ho. I can already see five of the enemy planes in formation."

"Not anymore." The Captain said, firing his Falken's lasers, completely wiping out the enemy formation.

"Damn… that must the new experimental aircraft they've already started deploying," Bezmel sounded astonished at the Falken, it must have been his first time seeing it in action.

"Hey Volkov! Watch yourself; I've been getting word from the Capital Defense Command that the enemy might be using some of their own advanced aircraft." Ivanov sounded slightly concerned.

"Don't worry about me," Volkov said confidently.

"Well, okay. Just don't be hasty."

"Looks like the party's here, I'd say there's about fifty of them." the Captain's voice didn't sound concerned at all.

"Mikhailov, here, fox 3."

"Bezmel, here, engaging."

"Uhlan squadron, you are clear to engage." Ivanov stated.

"Way ahead of you." I saw four missiles launch from the Captain's Falken through my peripheral vision.

I spotted a formation of four planes a little ahead of and apart from the main body of attacking planes. Locking on to them with the lasers, I sought to vaporize them immediately. Firing, however, I realized that they quickly broke off of my lock, successfully evading the laser.

"Damn it, those guys are fast! Those planes don't look very familiar, either... is this the advanced aircraft Command has been talking about?" I inquired, being very surprised that my laser had missed its mark for the first time.

"Yeah, the CFA-44 Nosferatu. I can tell that's a squad of them by the way I saw them evade your laser attack on my radar - those are some pretty swift moves. Be extra careful with them." Ivanov warned.

The four CFA-44s managed to break pretty well and far apart from each other. Other than that they didn't look like they were attempting to maneuver to well anymore - they actually looked like they were flying on autopilot for some reason.

Before I could wonder why, however, I saw a slight flash coming from one of the four enemy planes. I focused on it, and then realized that it was the firing of a barrage of missiles, with me being one of its targets.

"I just read a simultaneous DRIVE from all four of those enemy planes on radar! That's forty missiles out there; all aircraft evade as best you can - use countermeasures if you have to!" Ivanov sounded like he was in a slight panic, and I myself became very anxious.

I fired my countermeasures and flew like I never flew before in the Falken. It was a very risky flight, and I almost knocked myself out trying to pull off so many Gs. Although I managed to shake off my own missile lock, and I resumed a straightforward flight following that, I could see that things were going much worse for those around me from my cockpit. I saw many Berkuts and Typhoons struggle to evade the advanced missiles fired at them, and I saw that many of them failed. The many explosions I saw seemed to further mar the shattered, night sky.

"Damn it… they took out so many of us… Lieutenant Colonel Bezmel, here, to those left in the First Battalion. This is a direct order… leave this airspace and head east to the nearest airbase. I won't let these bastards put your lives to waste like this…" The youthfulness of the Battalion Commander sounded devastated - it was as if he aged visibly through the enemy's attack.

"This is AWACS, it's advisable that everyone retreat, even you, Bezmel. But for Uhlan Squadron, it seems that Command has something else in mind for you - I've received a wire from them a moment ago regarding the 'advanced aircraft' the enemy has out: 'It is imperative for the survival of our nation that Uhlan Squadron downs the advanced aircraft of the enemy squadron. They are former Strigon pilots and their deaths will serve as extremely detrimental to the enemy's invasion plans while further preserving the youth and future of our nation. This is a direct order to Uhlan Squadron: down those planes.' And that was the end of their wire," Ivanov sounded incredibly regretful and angry, "I can't believe they're making you guys do this, but they're right. Regardless, I have full faith in your combat ability. You're much faster and stronger than the enemy can ever achieve, even being former Strigon Squadron pilots and even with their CFA-44s. You have to do this."

Looking at my radar and realizing the four enemy aircraft had reformed into their formation and were again heading toward us, I responded, "We will do this… I mean, we really are the only ones who can, right, Captain?"

"Yeah…" Volkov was surprisingly quiet until that moment, "I may be low on ammunition, but we'll definitely take them on! They probably used up their only ADMMs with that one attack, so this fight will definitely get intensely close. Just remember your dogfight training with me, son, and you'll make it through this."

- - -  
It was the enduring symbol of the unification between the many small nations within the Lyes United Front. The Lyes Capitol Citadel housed a diverse and unified bunch of Eastern cultures and most importantly - the leadership of the Lyes United Front. Out of some miracle circumstance at the very end of the Estovakian Civil War, a famous last stand by the many inhabitants of the Citadel managed to secure its preservation, even beyond the Lyes' ultimate surrender to the The Generals'. Once more the Lyes Capitol Citadel would serve as the headquarters of the movement.

With The Generals' failed campaign in Emmeria and with growing disfavor against the military regime, the many people within Lyes began to take back what was once theirs and successfully reestablished the Lyes United Front, even managing to go as far as to rescue their former leaders from the political prisons spread across the area.

Two of those political prisoners were very close childhood friends who went on to become essential figures behind the Lyes United Front. One was the visionary who actually conceived the idea behind the Lyes United Front, Angus Lamarque - a genius manipulator of politics who managed to successfully unite the many nations in the Western region of Estovakia without having to shed blood at all. The other man was one of the most legendary, unsung figures of the Estovakian Civil War. Prince Maximilian Alexander, the young prince-regent of a kingdom of which he chose to relinquish its sovereignty to further the strength of the Lyes United Front in order to better combat The Generals' Eastern Faction. He was an enthusiastic aviator since his childhood, and from his very early flight experiences as a child with his father funding his training, went on to become one of the most legendary aces of the Lyes United Front. Flying several of combat sorties solo in his silver coated X-02 under the callsign "Lancelot," he ousted many attempts by the Eastern Faction that aimed at completely destroying the many nations in the Lyes United Front. His many accomplishments range from destroying a string of enemy railway guns aimed at Lyes' centers of population to single-handedly decommissioning Estovakia's largest nuclear missile launch facility. Of course, due to the amount of Eastern Faction's failures he's contributed to, The Generals' military regime quickly destroyed all of his combat records shortly following the Lyes' United Front's surrender, then grounding and exiling the pilot to one of the worst political prisons in the west.

"Sir, it looks like The Generals are already playing their trump card. The Aggressor Force aimed at Kiev Airbase seems to have ran into overwhelming opposition - a few of the squadrons at point were vaporized near instantly by some kind of laser!" An elderly gentleman dressed in a military uniform stormed into the central office of the Lyes Capitoline Building.

Although Angus was slightly surprised at how quickly the enemy unleashed the Falken, he composure remained cool, "They must already be in the middle of another project. Damn it… we have to send out the CFA-44s on standby nearby to deal with them, now!"

"Are you sure that's not what they want you to do?" The military advisor questioned.

"No… that's exactly what they want me to do. I want to see how they react... If things go as I intend for it to play out, we're firing the ADMM2s."

"I don't understand, do you know the risks involved with firing the ADMM2s with our own guys out there?! We'll lose them all, even the aces in the CFA-44s!" the advisor sounded alarmed at his superior's strategy.

"You see, during my imprisonment I've thought about everything that went wrong and caused us to lose so badly. We had so much potential and with the Regent-Prince doing what he did we got so damn close from restoring the true republic of Estovakia, but we still lost. Don't you get why?" Angus questioned his advisor, bitterly.

The advisor couldn't respond and simply frowned in reaction.

"Those damn Generals', they went as far as it was necessary in order to achieve victory - they set aside morals and collateral damage even towards their own people! They were even in a crisis at one point of the war, but they still won playing so brutally! I'm afraid that… in order to rescue the oppressed people of Lyes from further enslavement by Estovakia… we'll have to make sacrifices. We will have to fall down from grace and surrender our chivalrous ideals while some of our own people will have to make sacrifices of property and even life, when necessary. This is for the next generation. I do not want to see my own or anyone's children or their children's children to have to live under the military regime of the The Generals'. They brought us nothing but failure, enslavement, and death. They need to lose, no matter what the cost… I know you must be a little surprised to hear this from me, but I saw things in that prison camp they exiled me to while they gave you amnesty through a command role during their campaign against Estovakia. Those people I met who were left to die there… they didn't die because The Generals' won, they died because I lost! They died because I kept up trivial, chivalrous and god damned childish moral principles in my pursuit for their freedom! Not only did I lose but I had their freedom taken away again! I just cannot allow that to happen anymore, even if I have to go to hell for it - I've already committed greater sins towards those I swore to protect! I've gotten enough people killed… doing this will be my atonement… People will die, but only when necessary. We simply cannot foolishly place life as a priority to these greater pursuits, or the lives will be lost inevitably and our pursit will fail, in the end. That's what happened last time, and I won't let it happen anymore. Do you understand… father?"

"Yes… I understand now. I'll contact the CFA-44 squadron immediately." The aged Field Marshall Lamarque began to make his way out of the room, then stopping halfway there.

"Son!" He called, turning around.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you've taken the path you've chosen. I'm a coward myself for failing to consider such a path… I whole-heartedly believe that you'll achieve to free Estovakia from The Generals, once and for all!"

"Thanks, and by the way…"

"Yes?"

"How's Lancelot doing? I know he was a little young and reckless to be a Prince-Regent at such a pivotal point in history, which was why I convinced him to join and fight for us. Has he at least found his aircraft?"

"Oh, yes! That guy is too rash for his own good, I hear he gave those bastards at his prison camp a run for their money when all these rebellions started - he actually lead one himself, to the best of my knowledge. And about his X-02, I managed to keep it preserved over the years, I convinced High Command that it'd be going a little too far to destroy his aircraft when we can simply conduct research on it and apply its design and capabilities to our future planes. He's actually flying in the X-02 now, rallying some of his old mentors at Northern Pegasus Flight Academy to join us again along with other pilots there."

"Wait, no. I need him elsewhere; can you contact him, too? We might not have to use the ADMM2s like this."

- - -

"Fox 2!" I saw the Captain launch a missile from his plane while trailing one a straggling CFA-44, while the other three seemed to gang up behind me.

In order to evade the missile, the CFA-44 performed a very high-G turn that looked incredibly hard to recover from.

"There! Son, get him now - he looks like he's going to stall out of it!" Volkov instructed breathlessly.

"Roger!" Regardless of the CFA-44s attempting to stick on my tail, I managed to pull a hard turn bleeding some speed toward the straggling one, slowing me down enough and throwing of the other CFA-44s enough to give me a clear shot on their straggler - I fired my guns and made short work of the enemy plane.

"Nice work, Uhlan 2, you downed that bastard!" Ivanov confirmed the kill from his E-767.

The Captain scoffed, "Nice, son, but don't forget I set up that kill for you. By the way, you've got quite a party going on behind you, and I feel like doing a little crashing…"

Just as I realized the other enemy CFA-44s were ganging up behind me again, the Captain broke it off by abruptly firing his laser through two of them, instantly destroying them.

"Meh, Strigon pilots, huh? They must have gotten their best pilots wasted during the Estovakian-Emmerian War, because these guys are trash without their damn ADMMs!" The Captain sounded a little disappointed on the radio.

"Well, it looks like the last one is retreating… wait a second! Another plane is coming up on my radar, closing fast! It's only one, but I have a bad feeling about this." Ivanov reported, concern returning to his voice once more.

"A soloist, huh? I hate those kinds of bastards; let me take care of this one, Uhlan 2!"

Suddenly I heard a new, unknown and very young voice speak on the radio, "Is that you… 'Red leader'? Hmph! I'm not surprised to see that you're still alive and well… and fighting as you usually are…"

"Wait a minute… Lancelot?!" Volkov's voice rose with rage and confusion.

"I'm also not surprised to see that you only have one other plane in your squadron this time around, seeing how reckless and irresponsible you are, letting all of Red squad get destroyed like that…"

"You bastard, Lancelot! I'll never forgive what you did to all those young pilots who just couldn't compete - you coward! I thought those damn Generals' erased you!"

"I'm no coward; I'm just doing what people like you and me do best… completing the mission. You're just as much of a murderer as I am, and now you're going to have to die… or perhaps… should I kill your little buddy flying as your Second, first?"

I suddenly caught a visual of the lone aircraft decelerating before me, its wing design, reminiscent of a "w", were unlike anything I've seen before.

"Captain? Who the hell is that using our frequency?! The only people who would know would be pilots from the Estovakian Civil War - wait! No… it can't be…" Ivanov quieted himself in his own confusion.

"Damn you! Don't whack the bush you bastard, I'm your opponent here!" Volkov was screaming, now, and I started feeling a lot of concern towards him, "Son, Ivanov - get the hell out of here, this is really my fight this time around! This bastard lacks honor and will do anything to bring us trouble."

"There was none to return until now. I'm glad you're at least removing your own ESM privileges, but something's actually telling me that this guy is gonna stick around like the last, so I'll give him some help." The plane before me then fired a missile, missing the tip of my wing.

It wasn't aimed for me.

"This is Ivanov, what the hell was that?! Damn it, the radar functions of this aircraft is inoperable now… we're losing altitude…"

"I don't think I killed it, but that's okay, it looks like the ESM stopped. Now, let's see if you live up to your squad name, Uhlan 1. En garde!"

Suddenly, the plane before me began to accelerate rapidly and its "w" shaped wing design seemed to fold up.

I had no idea what was going on.


	6. Chapter 5

"Son, this may be my final order to you…" I was nearly blinded by the Captain's laser as he began to fire in anticipation of his enemy after he spoke, "Leave this airspace and RTB!"

I was still deep in perplexity and I didn't know what to do. With everything I've been through with Volkov, I couldn't just leave him here.

My captain began to sound frustrated, "This just isn't your fight; you must go now! You have something to live for, while I, on the other hand, have something I have to die for."

Lancelot's sick laugh abruptly surpassed my Captain's declaration, "You want to be honorable now, Volkov? You're such a bastard. You have nothing to die for. You simply just need to die, and that's all there is to it. Your existence in this world is disgusting. You don't belong here anymore. The 'honor' you're trying to uphold now is contradictory and outdated against the man you were before and the man you should be now. It's too late, Volkov. The people who died because of you… there's nothing you can do about them, anymore, they'll never come back. I don't care if your plane is more advanced than mine, I know my plane more than you know yours - the plane I fly now is the same exact one responsible for the deaths of those pilots you're trying to 'die' for now. The only thing you can do for them now is join them, and I'll help you get there, you poor bastard!"

I heard how the enemy pilot degraded my Captain with his straightforwardly twisted claims. My view towards Captain Volkov became distorted and obscure. He never openly spoke about his service during the Estovakian Civil War, and hearing everything the enemy pilot said of him utterly shocked me.

Regardless, I still felt a strong loyally towards my Captain. Remembering everything he's told me in and out of all the sorties I've flown with him, I could tell his intentions were sincerely good. He was the man who has kept me in the fight all along, rather than leaving me to look towards my own survival, which I should have been doing this whole time. I wanted to come home to my love, Melinda, but with the Captain having been with me ever since I began training with the EAF, I grew fond of his paternal mindfulness and faith towards me as one his wingman.

I couldn't leave him like this - I didn't care if I was defying his direct orders and I didn't care if I got a billion demerits and faced court martial as a result of my final course of action. The Captain still needed to live. Something convinced me that his mission really wasn't complete yet.

"Captain! I don't care what anyone says about you… you're my Captain - better than anyone else - and this is our squad! Whatever bone you have to pick with that enemy pilot, I don't care! He's an enemy target all the same, and it's our mission both to eliminate it." As expected, my missile warning alarm went off right after I announced my intent, it seemed as if Lancelot became impatient with me.

The enemy pilot expressed his perverse amusement again, "You've become quite an interesting bastard, Volkov! It's going to be much more exciting to see you die this way, along with your little friend!"

"This is Ivanov, I don't know what the hell might be going on, but you'd better take care, Uhlan squad. I have to go now, though; this plane really needs to be repaired soon. I'm seeing you back at base, okay?"

"Yes, sir." The Captain replied coolly.

Having raised my altitude drastically to evade the missile the enemy pilot Lancelot fired previously, I ended up breaking the highest layer of clouds in the night sky.

The urgency of the situation I carelessly had thrown myself into… the shattered sky I once knew - almost everything I previously perceived of the world around me seemed to disappear against the splendor of the infinite stars I caught sight of. Even the pain I bore with my drastic change in altitude had been left anesthetized by the aesthetic of all the stars before me.

"What the hell are you doing, Uhlan 2? Do you know how close you are to stalling… huh?! You still haven't stalled yet?!" Volkov sounded awed.

"Damn it… I can't follow him up there..." Lancelot's own amusement even seemed to end.

I still wasn't sure about what was going on, and the significance of everything I was doing. For a second, an absurd realization came across my mind. Was I actually being protected by the heavens?

The starry sky I promised to return to my love… it was always there. It was simply shrouded by layers of clouds and conflict. I myself was blinded of its existence with all the fighting I've been doing up in the air.

For the first time that night, I heard the Captain laugh, "It looks like Lancelot's little party is over. Good catch, Uhlan 2! I'm going to be joining you so we can kick Lancelot's little ass."

"This… it's not fair. This is bullshit!" Lancelot himself seemed to yield into frustration at the superiority of our Falkens, "I'm not going to fight you like this, forget about it! I'll get you again, though, you bastard flyboys! Those stars can only protect you so long… damn it! I can't believe my X-02 could be surpassed like this!" Lancelot's rage went on.

"Just go home, you cowardly crybaby." The Captain jeered.

I could hear the enemy pilot on the radio growl like a mad hound who failed to capture his prey, "I won't forget this, you bastards! I'll be back, definitely! I will kill you both!"

"To think this man was once a prince…" The Captain spoke softly in the radio as we both joined into formation, "He's just a sellout. Lyes is no better than those militaristic Generals of ours, they no longer seem to consider the cost of life in their campaigns, either, with their arbitrary use of the ADMM2s. They just kill whenever and wherever they see fit. This war isn't even a matter of who's right anymore, it's a matter of whose homes are to get obliterated and how many people are to die. That's why I want you to make sure you never lose that home and wife of yours, son, no matter what our mission objectives may be in the future. Like I said earlier, you have something to live for. Make sure you don't lose that, or yourself."

"I know, I know. You've still got your own mission to complete too, though, so you shouldn't be throwing your life in the way of danger so carelessly." I told him.

"No, I think the mission would get completed either way." Volkov rebutted, "Let's go home… by the way, son."

"Yeah?" I was kind of surprised there was something he seemed to sincerely want to tell me.

"You're going to have to drop for me when we get back. You violated my direct orders. You haven't been into PT much lately; anyway, with all the flying we've been doing, you'd actually need to drop for the sake of your physical well-being."

Despite other expectations, I had a gut feeling he was going to say something like that, so I actually laughed in response. Simply having to do some push-ups was more than fair for aiding Volkov like that.

"Roger that, Captain."

"Haven't I already told you that I don't like being addressed by my rank or anything?"

"I don't remember."

"I don't, either," The Captain began to laugh, "So much has happened lately, I need a good drink. Want to hit up the bar whenever we have some free time? I guess it'll be on me."

"Sure thing."

* * *

"Did you complete the mission?" Lamarque's still young and somewhat tender voice inquired on Maximilian's radio.

"Unfortunately, I was unable to. Their planes were able to climb so high, I would've killed myself in pursuit of them. I used to dream of being able to fly that high…" Maximilian's embittered voice was mixed with range and grief.

"You should have called us, Maxie. They had just loaded the Starburst for launch, too, but we couldn't get in contact with you and I feared that if we fired while you were still in the middle of the dogfight you wouldn't have been able to avoid it yourself. That weapon is beast. How come we couldn't contact you, anyway? That X-02 usually never has communication problems."

"I'm not sure. I think my primary radio needs to be replaced, unfortunately my secondary radio has a very small range."

"Why do you keep that old thing, anyway?"

"Even before the Estovakian Civil War, I used to fly sorties with that radio. It brings me back to my youth and all…"

"I see… well, just get back safely."

"Will do, out." Lancelot shut off his primary radio.

He hated to admit it, but he still did not agree with the usage of the ADMM2 Starburst projectile volley. It was too much of an indiscriminate murderer to utilize in warfare, and he felt that there was no honor behind its use.

"Honor, huh." Maximilian scoffed sickly.

Was he really a hypocrite like Captain Volkov? Maximilian was confused and ticked off. He couldn't find it in himself to fight and fly like he used to. With everything that happened in the prison camps he could barely get a hold on his previous self. He himself began to lose the honor he once tried so hard to uphold, having gone as far as to single-handedly destroy an enemy nuclear missile launch facility. Instead of being as principled as he used to be, he was vulgar and fickle. Aside from the urgency of whatever mission he was flying, he began convincing himself that it was also necessary to kill as many people as he could in the course of an immediate mission in order to prevent the war from dragging on. On the other hand, wasn't this what he had always been doing?

Many years ago, during the near height of the war with the conflict over the remnants of the Island Faction, Maximilian flew a solo sortie against several of Eastern Faction ace fighter squadrons, one in particular being Captain Volkov's squadron at the time. Although he was left frustrated with being unable to even get a lock on Captain Volkov, Maximilian instead went for the other planes in his squadron of SU-33s. Volkov put a lot of effort into training his squad, and he almost got them through the war without a single loss. It was the superiority of Maximilian's plane that allowed him to score victory against all of Volkov's squadron. Even then, Maximilian still couldn't shoot down the Captain, and 'let him go.' He never let him go. He knew that Captain Volkov was unable to do anything with his squad, having already exhausted most of his own ammunition throughout the battle. Volkov never even tried getting a lock on Maximilian, and he knew it was for a reason. Maximilian might have won that battle, but it was because of his opportunism more than anything else. There was no honor in the way he mercilessly wasted Captain Volkov's squadron out of his frustration. Seeing that the Captain was still alive earlier reminded him of that day, and despite never forgiving himself for what he had done then, he convinced himself that if he managed to kill the Captain, he'd be able to forget about everything that happened during the battle over the Island Faction. That still did not excuse his wrath and his action in disabling the enemy E-767 aircraft. He never did that to make things fair, he only did it because he knew he'd even be more than dead if Volkov still had missiles along with ESM support by his side.

"I'm a liar, aren't I?" having fully realized everything he was responsible before, the 'prince' couldn't help but cry, "I never deserved my nobility, I am a murderer!"

He then recalled the day he submitted his kingdom to Lyes as prince-regent, and what Lamarque told him that day.

"Merci beaucoup, mon ami! I know the kind of person you are, and I know how hard it was for you to do something like this, but I'm assuring you that everything you're doing is for the greater good of the future… our children, especially! You don't want your son to live in a militaristic and communist society, right? Well, it would've only been possible if you submitted everything that once belonged to your kingdom to Lyes. I promise, with everything you've given me, I'll only be further obliged to accomplish the task of bringing peace to Estovakia. Lyes will bring us back to prosperity - our children can live happy lives like those Emmerians are now! We just need to bring Democracy back to Estovakia! I just can't lose. Especially with you having offered to fly for my air force, too! I'll let you fly alone, and I'll give you the greatest plane I can find you, just you wait! We might be young, but I'm sure we'll be able to change things around here, just as long as we put enough effort into it!"

That simply wasn't the way things went, however. They did put an outstanding amount of effort with the odds of the Eastern Faction against them, but they simply couldn't uphold their ethical, childish ideals along with addressing the urgency of their military campaign. It only touched upon Maximilian once, and that was when he shot down all of Captain Volkov's squadron. The amount of humiliation he brought on the Captain had him grounded for the rest of the war. He might have done that much, but there were even more aces out there Maximilian couldn't find it in himself to fight after what he did. Although he knew the amount of advantages he had in flying against the enemy's air force, after having his morals challenged so much during that dogfight with Captain Volkov and his aces, he begged for Lamarque to assign him to operations that would get him even further away from active dogfighting. Maximilian believed that he didn't have what it took to be an honorable fighter pilot, and instead took part in more obscure operations from then on. Despite preventing the full destruction of his region, his actions, or inactions, rather, were what actually lead to the defeat of his faction. He knew it wasn't Lamarque's fault; he simply had too many military and political odds against him. By undermining his own significance in the war, Maximilian doomed himself, his friend, and even many people of his nation into the labor and despair of the prison camps.

Having reflected on his past even further, Maximilian stopped crying, "I can't let that happen again. I need to win, now, no matter what it takes and despite everyone I have to kill or disgrace! The enemy held no honor in sending us into the hell of those prison camps, and therefore, I will no longer return any! I've been wrong all along and my petty ideals only doomed myself and those around me… I won't let that happen anymore. Damn it all to hell! I will stain my hands with as much blood as I must in order to accomplish the mission. No one deserved to be sent to those damn camps, except maybe me… for everything I failed to do. I can no longer be nobility; I can no longer be Lancelot! That's okay, though; I'll only be freed up from the unnecessary burdens I've been carrying to battle this whole time. I only need to win and even if I myself will be punished for eternity for my actions, I can bring back prosperity and happiness to everyone again, just as long as I win…"


	7. Chapter 5 Point Five: Abyssal Demons

_Extreme-left wing radical Valentino Navarro of the United Socialist Party of Leasath has recently been inaugurated President of the Democratic Republic of Leasath, announcing that he would bring the nation to an even greater economic and social prosperity than what has been slowly unfolding over the past few years, claiming, "If those damn Oseans think they can use our resources for their opulence, they can think again." Many political analysts say that it's only a matter of time until-_  
"Bull! It's already time…" Colonel Bragg, a middle-aged man with a baby's face and a precisely shaved brown buzz cut, shut down the television in his exasperation.

He was several levels above what the news agencies knew. Who else deserved that right, aside from the Osean's prestigious Sand Island base commander, Colonel Bragg? It was responsibility he never wanted to take, however. Bearing into mind reflections of his actions years ago as a headstrong young Captain of an OADF squadron, he knew his shortfalls. Bragg could not bear to carry the fate of anyone, anymore.

But he had no other choice. The red phone placed conveniently at the darkest corner of his desk began to ring. He already knew who was calling.

"Colonel Bragg, the Osean Embassy in Leasath has been completely destroyed! They've also raided and captured over thirty Osean commercial vessels docked there, and have grounded all Osean Air departure flights. Do you understand what is at stake? That country provides over 75 billion gallons of oil to us every year! If they start cutting it off now, we'll be at a major crisis, here! We can't let them do this… those greedy bastards!" An aged voice breathlessly shouted through the phone, "It's going to end as quickly as it started! Your Razgriz Wing… this will be its first sortie! We're putting them to the test today! I don't care if you think those pilots aren't ready yet, those are the only guys who have a chance to pound the hell out of Leasath's Air Force by the end of today. We've already got a few Marines and Special Forces units ready for rapid deployment, but we can't get them there unless we have air dominance ASAP! The Arkbird Mk. II is already changing course for the endgame, and we need someone to destroy every single plane under their Capital Air Defense Command! You know what to do…"

Even after expecting things to go this way, Bragg was still overwhelmed by the impatience of his nation's Joint Chiefs of Staff, slowly responding, "I… understand…"

"You damn well better! Launch them within the hour; that is all I have to say to you." Finally the shouting ceased, and the aged General hung up the phone.

"Although the younger pilots of the wing might not be ready, I know their commander has been waiting for this all his life. His energy, ability to lead, and piloting skills are far beyond what I managed to grasp as the bastard of young gun I was back in the day. I know he'll take the Razgriz Rings to unparalleled heights, that Lieutenant Colonel Cassidy Roland S. Cassidy… okay," ready to address the promising young commander under him, Bragg began to leave his office towards Lt. Colonel Cassidy's quarters.

"So it looks like we're becoming the police of the world, huh?" Cassidy seemed amused by Osea's course of action after his Colonel had explained everything to him.

"I know, it looks like we have no other choice," Bragg made a slight smile as respectful gesture before he began to explain things to his apprentice, "Having been as large as we are, fighting as many wars as we've fought in the past - our natural resources are beginning to deteriorate. We depend on the resources of countries like Leasath, and even more so from countries in Anea. Actually, with the way things are going - if they keep having conflicts out there, the world will eventually descend into a crisis because of them. As we have already reformed so much after the decades of incidents with the Belkans, it really has become our responsibility to not let it happen anywhere else, even though our own continent's resources have already been exhausted. We've all learned our lessons, here. No other country in any other continent should have to throw away their resources like that, and they need to accept it, even if we have to forcefully teach them. Peace wasn't so easy to achieve and maintain as the last President, Harling thought, and we're beginning to realize that. If we push out this emerging policy of compelling other nations to throw down their arms with our own, we can ensure that future generations may continue to live on the yet abundant natural resources of the world, even if we must stain our hands with blood. At least let our resources last long enough for them to completely research alternatives. You know where I'm going with this… right? Well, the Razgriz Wing is in your hands, and I can tell that it'll have a big role from here on out… you're pretty young, but I see a lot of spunk in you, kid. Are you ready?"

"I was born ready, Colonel. I'm proud that you have placed me to be the commander of the Razgriz Wing, and I'm sure to not let you down! Those bastards who waste their natural resources to carelessly - they don't deserve to exist in this world. It may be a little sick for me to say this, but I think that the policy we are now putting into practice… is beautiful. I want to be the one to teach everyone the value behind this beauty!" Cassidy exclaimed in his excitement.

Bragg's eyes opened in a sort of shock for a moment. It was from that moment when he began to suspect Cassidy's personality. As quickly has his eyes opened, however, he shook his head and closed them again, dismissing his suspicion. He knew that the Lieutenant Colonel was still young, and would learn over time. At the very least, that was what he _hoped_.

* * *

Like an abyss tearing through the blue sky's expanse, the Razgriz Wing's very own experimental F-14X's relentlessly dashed through the afternoon clouds.

"That's Captain Rei Nagase flying by me, right? You seem to follow my orders without question, so I'll give you the position as the Razgriz Wing's XO. That will also make you the squadron leader of Sword Squadron, so keep in mind that the position will place you in the forefront of what I have planned; I hope you're ready!" Cassidy directed through his radio.

"Yes, sir," a remarkably gentle, soft voice responded.

Rei was a very quiet person, and was always distant from her parents. Since there was really no other place she wanted to go while she was younger, she ended up joining the Osean Air Force just as her parents did. Unlike her mother, Rei was usually timid on her own. Being under the resolute and commanding Cassidy, however, Rei felt very comfortable, and followed her superior ardently. Although Rei herself was diffident in nature, Cassidy had a powerful sense of existence and of the big picture, and Rei entrusted herself to him. She didn't really speak on it too much, but she personally felt a powerful bond to her commander. His leadership traits reflected that of her father, and that is what kept her most at ease.

Cassidy smiled, "I know you won't let me down, Rei… Ah - tally ho! It looks like they're sending an advance squadron of four Super Tomcats to meet us. Heh, easy game, they're nothing like our advanced models. Demon Squadron, I just want you pilots to launch only two of your long range missiles each at them as we've trained to deal with these kinds of four-man flights. Do you understand? Archer?"

"Yes! Launching!" the Demon Squadron lead pilot, under the callsign Archer, nervously acknowledged the order.

Although he was a novice pilot and the youngest man in the wing, Archer demonstrated a lot of potential. It was for this reason that Cassidy made him the squadron leader of Demon Squadron, a squadron made up entirely of the most recent nuggets of the wing.

"Okay, we're only a few miles from Alendai. It's Showtime! It looks like their entire Air Force is lined up for us today. Talk about baptism by fire, huh? Demon and Sword Squadrons, launch all your long-range missiles at whatever you can. Once you're done with that, Sword Squadron, drive into their main body of planes and draw them into a furball! Shield Squadron, I want you to keep your distance from the combat and give in long-range support with your radar guided missiles. After launching your missiles, Demon Squadron, keep behind me and together we'll be sure to keep the distance between the furball and Shield Squadron. Our planes are faster and we're all far superior to whatever is going to throw against us, even if it seems as if they have an advantage in numbers. This may be our first true combat experience, but this is NOT a fight to the death! It's futile to try and be hero now, as our true objective is to simply buy time for the incoming Arkbird Mk. II so that the Harling Cannon is prepared to fire at the enemy capital!" Cassidy, launching all of his long-range missiles at once against the mess of enemy planes ahead of him and began to feel the intensity of the moment when his command ability was put to the test; he loved it.

The odds in numbers against the Razgriz Wing were initially ten-to-one. How Razgriz would perform at Alendai would pretty much determine their continued existence in the Osean Air Force. They were new and their maintenance had cost Oured a lot of money, so this is where all the dollars poured into their existence would be proven to be a proper investment. If they failed here, they would all be doomed to die being several hundred miles away from the nearest friendly unit, and that'd prove to Oured more than enough that the investment was a waste. Either the Razgriz Wing would bring about a heroic victory in the skies on its own, or it would be slated for massacre. It was an exciting gamble by their nation's Joint Chiefs of Staff as they sought to ascertain the truth behind the legacy of "Razgriz," the name dubbed to Sand Island's integrated unit of the most promising of Osea's newest pilots at the time - a "revival" of sorts.

None of this mattered to Cassidy, however, as the battle itself was what he lived for. As his abyss of planes monstrously consumed the enemy, he felt madly entertained; impervious to the true worth of those who fell before him. The enemy planes were not ready for the Razgriz Wing, as they truly lived up to their name as "demons."

The odds were quickly reduced to five-to-one… and then two-to-one. In a matter of five minutes, the Razgriz Wing's superior planes and Cassidy's overall line of attack gave them complete advantage over their enemy. Beginning to acknowledge the futility of their defense, some of the remaining enemy pilots even decided to disengage and desperately attempt escape. It was hopeless for them, in the end. It only kept Cassidy amused to witness his helpless foes skewered by Shield Squadron's radar guided missiles. They had just about won.

"This is Brigadier General Smith aboard the Arkbird Mk. II, thanks for everything, Razgriz! The enemy has been so overwhelmed by your presence they never even gave a thought to what we might be doing here. Okay, it's time to finish this. Your part in this is done; I hope you guys fared well. The Harling Cannon has completed charging, we're beginning the firing sequence." Another aged voice spoke on the radio, but it was much smoother than the breathlessness of Osea's Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"Alright, let's go! Did we lose anyone?" Cassidy inquired, a little nervous about having lost track of Sword Squadron being consumed with his own situation in the heat of things.

"Negative. We've all made it," Rei responded straightforwardly.

"Good job, Rei, I knew you could do it! Form up back into Wing Formation!"

"Affirmative, Lieutenant Colonel."

As the black-coated Razgriz Tomcats fused into their absolute, abyssal form a few miles off of the edge of Alendai, a great, translucent beam of purple light emerged from space, broke through the sky and clouds, and engulfed the entire city. In a godly flash and with a demonic roar, a capital worth so much to its nation was completely wiped out.  
"Damn… I hope that Navarro didn't have any kids that lived outside of here. It'd be a shame if we left such hatred behind…" The young pilot under the callsign of Archer said, slightly overwhelmed by the intensity of the Harling Cannon.

Another pilot laughed on the radio, "I don't think it'd matter. I know Leasath won't ever bother doing something as insane as what they did today, again. What you should be afraid of is if Navarro did have a kid outside of the capital who was passive aggressive - I mean he might just blame Aurelia or something and screw them over!"

Cassidy didn't mind the irrelevant chatter going about his wing at the time; he himself was consumed by his victory.

"I really do have the power, now, don't I?" his smile became sick and twisted as he began to talk to himself in the cockpit of his aircraft, thinking of what strength laid behind him and his wing, "Razgriz really can become the hero of the world! It is truly beautiful… me… Rei… Razgriz Wing - we'll bring peace to this world, once and for all!"

Being a handsome young gentleman who swiftly ripped apart all the odds against him, Cassidy felt as if he was on top of the world. The furball itself might have only lasted five minutes, but even with the odds they faced, Razgriz Wing had complete control of the battle.

Reflecting on everything he had just done, Cassidy felt transcendent and himself began to succumb to the feeling.

"It isn't even fair, what we did to Leasath's incompetent air force… but that's the way things are! The enemy… their motives, their flying… they were all so ugly. None of them deserved to exist - it's great that I did this to them, for them! And I can do this to those around the world who so shamelessly accept being ugly, too! I will teach them all to yield before the supreme beauty behind Osea, behind the Razgriz, and behind me! 'What can we do to become beautiful like you?' they'll all beg. I'll teach them what they can do by killing all those ugly bastards personally! It will become my masterpiece! I need to get promoted soon, damn it! The 'Lieutenant' before _my_ 'Colonel' sounds too ugly… I think it'll all be okay though. This is only the beginning."

In his hysteria, Cassidy began to laugh maniacally. He was truly a monster.

* * *

Once the Wing was grounded back at Sand Island, Cassidy made it his priority to make sure that all of his pilots were okay. In particular, he wondered about Rei. She didn't talk much during the flight, although she usually never talks much at all. It was hard for him to keep track of her, and yet he felt very strongly about maintaining a bond with her, especially considering that he kept her as his second.

Having just dismounted from her Tomcat, Rei removed her helmet. As Cassidy caught sight of her several meters away, he began to increase the pace of his step. He glanced excitedly as her short, black hair reflected a shade of purplish blue in the sunset. She was beautiful, and she was even younger than Cassidy was. Putting this to mind, Cassidy could not help but smile.

Finally realizing that her superior was approaching, Captain Nagase froze and her face, even in the already crimson sunset, hinted on an even redder color.

"L- Lieutenant Colonel…" Rei spoke slowly and softly.

Within reaching distance of his subordinate, Cassidy grabbed her lean, docile body and embraced her. Although surprised, Rei knew it would only be rude if she did not return the embrace, so she did.

"Lieutenant Colonel, isn't that PDA?" Bragg abruptly ended their reunion on the ground.

"S-Sir! I'm apologize!" Cassidy quickly let go of Rei and lightly tossed her to his side in a way that they were a few feet apart and in position to salute their Base Commander.

"Ah, I wasn't really serious, Cassidy, I know you guys were a little energized from the adrenaline rush of that being your first time in a combat sortie. Order arms and stand at ease… I received information about your flight and I heard you guys gave them one hell of a killing. Our Marines and Special Forces throughout other regions within Leasath have already effectively disabled its military ability, and our close allies in Usea's ISAF have reluctantly stepped in to bring peacekeeping troops to occupy Leasath and more particularly oversee Alendai in its reconstruction. You did your part, and you did quite well. I'm proud of you, kid. You too, Nagase! Since Razgriz Wing has done so well today, I've heard some talk that they'll be promoting everyone within Sand Island Base as a reward. I myself will finally be made a Brigadier General, but I'll be sure to convince them to keep me at Sand Island Base and maintain my position as Base Commander regardless. Even if you end up being a Colonel, Cassidy, I wouldn't want a warrior like you to have his talent wasted away behind a desk! I have a strong feeling that they'll keep you around as Razgriz Wing Commander" Bragg gave his subordinates a pat each on their shoulders and began to walk away, "You're both dismissed, and I'll see you all in formation tomorrow morning. Congratulations, again, but don't think this is the end of things - I think activity is going to escalate quite a lot from here! Be prepared!"

With Bragg gone as quickly as he came, Cassidy turned to his second once more and gazed down into her deep, pure eyes. He began to smile some more and embraced her again.

Although a little surprised that he embraced her again, Rei returned his embrace without hesitation, "Cassidy…"

"This may just be the beginning, Rei, but I'll be sure to take good care of you!" Cassidy said, sincerely, "You are beautiful."

Again surprised, Rei could barely respond, "Thanks…"

* * *

In Osea'a prominent capital of Oured, a CH-47 Chinook with foreign markings landed before the nation's Capitol building.

"I see no reason why Lyes' Angus Lamarque would be seeking peace here, starting his little rebellion over at Estovakia. He's only been making things even more inconvenient for us!" The breathless, aged General of the Army watched from afar overseeing his digital camouflage-dressed escort unit greeting the foreign leader, "The only thing he'll accomplish here will be to provoke us into disabling all major powers within Anea altogether. After all, his little rebellion is only wasting our 'precious natural resources' - how sickening! His father is quite a respectable character but this unlucky bit of spawn is just a piece of trash. I really would like to kill him personally, and I have a feeling that I will indeed have an opportunity to, in due time…"

As Lamarque walked down the ramp that extended from the rear of the helicopter, he began to approach the general, "My father has told me a lot about you… I'm very pleased to meet you, Chairman of Osea's Joint Chiefs of Staff, General of the Army, Cornelius Clark."


	8. Chapter 6

"T-this is Lieutenant Colonel Bezmel of the Central Estovakian Defense Brigade. To the pilots of the unknown aircraft approaching east of this air corridor, use of this passage is strictly prohibited, please turn away immediately! Our recent crisis requires for us to make sure that we let no aircraft pass this air corridor. If you breach the airspace we will be forced to engage you without further warning! Please respond!" Uneasy, Bezmel struggled to keep his composure while delivering the message over the radio - he was still shaken up from the potential massacre that had just been barely rescued from.

Bezmel, feeling helpless against the current situation, started to sweat as he waited for a response on the open radio frequency.

"This is Wing Commander of the Osean Federation's Fighter Wing Zero Razgriz, Colonel Roland S. Cassidy. Osea will no longer allow injustice and strife to so recklessly waste our planet's deteriorating, precious resources. This war you're fighting… it's irritating. We are no longer willing to negotiate with your faction, since _we_ can effectively end this meaningless war faster than what you bastards can even wish for. This 'Central Estovakian Defense Brigade' seems to be the only thing in our way from carrying out our mission; therefore, we will deal with you appropriately. Razgriz Wing, prepare to fire all your long-range missiles at the planes ahead of us!" A voice speaking so slick, so cool, and so calm on the radio started sent chills down the spine of the powerless Bezmel, "AWACS Thunderhead, I don't care what the hell you think about me as an individual or my tastes. I outrank every god damn person in that piece of trash flying circus you've got going on there, so you _will_ comply with my order! I want everyone to listen to my song, I want everyone to witness my god blesséd piece of art! What I am about to do… this is _my masterpiece[/i! I don't care if Oured is already relaying orders to the arm the Arkbird Mk. II Harling Direct-Energy Cannon… this time - is [iours_ - and I want to make it so that everyone learns the true meaning of magnificence! Play it! Pilots of my glorious wing, you know what to do… Thunderhead, cue 'Ode to Joy!'"

_What the hell is this?!_

Bezmel completely lost it. He couldn't respond to anything - he was as helpless as the other members of his overwhelmed unit. In a vain attempt to forget about everything, Bezmel closed his eyes. With his radio still on, however, he was still forced to listen to the elegance of 'Ode to Joy' overwhelm the frantic calls of his subordinates.

"Commander! What are we going to do?"  
"Damn it, my missile alert warning went off!"  
"Where is it coming from? Commander please respond! We need your guidance, here!"  
"Oh my god! There's so many missiles!"  
"No matter what I do, I'll never be able to evade it!"  
"HELP ME!"  
"Damn it! NO!"  
"What the?! I'm going -"  
"I'm not gonna -!"

"COMMANDER!"

Desensitized to the screams of his comrades, Bezmel opened his eyes again. Ahead of him was a sight even more horrendous than Lyes' 'Starburst.' It was a monster, a massive body of pitch black piercing the previously mild night sky. As it gradually grew in size fire, smoke, and metal began to emerge from the abyssal demon. The metal overwhelmed the planes around Bezmel, and as the young man watched around him as the fire and smoke consumed his comrades, he began to laugh, wildly.

The culmination of 'Ode to Joy' blended marvelously with the sound of rippling explosions around Bezlmel and along with the screams on the radio from the other, dying young pilots within his unit.

Bezmel's frenzied amusement transitioned into a feeble, helpless cry.

_This is just some crazy nightmare, I'm bound to wake up from it soon…_

"The hindrance has been appropriately disposed of, except their Commander. Leave him to me," A voice so cool, it was almost godlike… it was Cassidy.

Bezmel, having met such an adversary beyond his own reach, could not help but abhor the man for everything he did - everything he was. Yet… through that, as the abyssal demon of pitch black completely eclipsed the moon and surpassed the darkness behind the night sky itself, Bezmel could not help but sickly admire the guy, even with the deep perverseness shrouded by his appearance and intentions.

_Roland S. Cassidy, huh…_ Bezmel sniffled as he had his final thoughts, _I can't believe it… this 'masterpiece,' it is truly magnificent…_

As if through a mouth of fire protruding from the invincible abyssal demon before him, Bezmel himself had been consumed.

"This is AWACS Thunderhead, all enemy aircraft in the vicinity are destroyed. We can now proceed with the operation. That's odd… the force we just faced… it didn't seem like a 'Brigade' at all…"

"Cassidy, here, I am aware. I think Lyes' is just about to begin their invasion on this already worn down enemy. Amateurs like the man running Lyes shouldn't be up to this kind of business, though… but I have a feeling that there'll be a time when we can set him straight ourselves. For now… it's time for us to end the military dictatorship of Estovakia's 'Generals' and sanctify its people with my masterpiece."

Even though he himself gravely resented deeply unstable Cassidy's dangerously twisted recount of their proverbial fairy tale, the veteran radio operator aboard Thunderhead had no choice but to provide support for the Razgriz Wing. He didn't like Cassidy at all; he sensed the arrogance and mental instability behind the otherwise grand façade of the youthful commander. Putting those reservations aside, the veteran did acknowledge Cassidy's outstanding tactical prowess and skill as an individual fighter pilot that made him the "ideal" man for a command role. As "ideal" as Cassidy seemed, however, there was an inescapable shadow behind him that carried an ego perverse beyond any other. Although it was subtle and unnoticeable to his equally youthful subordinates, and even through how much of a front Cassidy puts up in the presence of his superior and many of his enemies, there were aspects of him that the veteran radio operator saw as blatantly obvious. Having been seriously flawed during his own youth and even being victimized to the manipulation of the Grey Men himself during the course of the Circum-Pacific War, the veteran came to develop a perception of human interaction most people are totally ignorant about.

But he knew that bringing up the issue would only complicate matters with everyone, and would ultimately sour their joint effort to disrepair, so he would continue to hold back his qualms.

"This is Thunderhead, roger that. We're almost at the capital…"

* * *

Inside the Midair Refilling Platform H-VO X Crete, I was just about ready to retire for the day. Before I could even think about dismounting from the plane, however, the bald-old man with the interesting mustache approached the cockpit, looking very grave.

"Remember the unit you just saved? Apparently, they were just wiped out a few minutes ago. The Federation of Osea recently adopted some kind of 'global initiative' to ensure some kind of 'perfect peace' around the world to better preserve our 'deteriorating' natural resources by preventing 'meaningless conflicts that would virtually waste precious resources that could be otherwise used for the greater good of humanity.' From the looks of it their ideology seems quite reverse from their actions, but I guess, truthfully, they really are making short work of things, considering what they did to Leasath to the south of their continent just a few weeks ago… And they just killed everyone in the CED Brigade in a matter of seconds! Unfortunately, you and the Captain are the only people capable of standing between them and The Generals. You don't even have to fight them off, theoretically - as long as you buy the capital enough time to evacuate The Generals, I think it'll be fine. Remember boy, the most important thing for you to do in the mission, no matter how bad the odds seem, is to survive. Even if you have to get your ass handed to you at a few points, it's not worth it to die trying to be a hero. You're young, and you have too much to live for, anyway. Don't forget, we need you too. Just think about what they'll do to this flying deathtrap once you guys are gone!"

"That's right…" I really had no sense of his presence other than the words I heard from his mouth, as my mind was consumed by Melinda and how she might be doing back home, far north, a place yet untouched by the conflict, thankfully.

"You'll be departing right after we refill your plane."

"Got it."

"Stay alive."

"Don't worry."

Within a few minutes I was airborne again, lost in the expanse of the darkness behind the night sky.

"Son, throughout your little struggle to survive as a young fighter pilot, there may be times when you have no other choice but to run away from it all. Considering how much Osea has militarized following Harling's desperate campaign for peace, these guys are really serious about becoming the police of the world. I guess you can say that at this point of time, we're no better than a pair of highwaymen about to face utter justice. Despite that, I won't let you accept it so freely, considering everything you still might be living for. Honor really is a baseless principle to uphold behind what you're doing, so I'm making it an order for you to not accept whatever might appear as bluntly obvious to your young eyes and mind. We never had any other choice but to do what we do, and it's just a matter of fact and a little bit of luck that puts us where we are today. I guess what I'm trying to say is, that no matter what happens out there, don't give up! On your life, I mean. I could care less if you give up on the fight itself as it comes, since you really are a bit too young for what is ahead of you. I myself have my own mission to accomplish, however, so don't worry about me once you yourself have decided on what you want to do for yourself. Do you understand?" something wasn't right about how Volkov was speaking to me, causing me to become sincerely concerned over the severity of what was ahead.

A rush of thoughts clouded my already lost mind as it seemed like we were flying aimlessly through the expanse of the night sky. It has only been a matter of weeks since I began my actual combat experience and I felt frantically exhausted.

"Commander, it seems that there is a pair of unknown aircraft approaching rapidly to our west," An inexplicably gentle voice spoke softly on the radio.

Even with how mellow the woman's voice seemed, her tone sounded awfully disparate from the dreadful sight ahead of me. Noticing a grim, pitch black haze marring the night sky, I wondered if that might just be the enemy, or Death itself.

"Its pitch black… it can't be," Volkov said in the lowest tone I've ever heard him speak on the radio, "the Razgriz… it really is them… I didn't think it was true."

An abrupt, uproarious laugh began and as if to mock my Captain, the young man spoke, "Yes, the Razgriz! You bastards didn't know what you were getting to, did you?"

The same voice suddenly modulated in a way that I found totally unnatural - he sounded so composed even after his outburst that I had become briefly thrown off guard, "Archer, let your squad take point and intercept them. Skewer them with your long range missiles, and get it over with quickly."

"Yes sir!" The voice of a younger man with a tone akin to my own responded confidently.

A smaller speck of pitch black began to detach from the blur ahead of us, and started to enlarge before my eyes.

"They're going to fire, son, you evade now!" Volkov ordered, his voice sounding traceably mild compared with how he usually commanded in combat.

Although I saw, from the left side of my peripheral vision, that he maintained his course and fired his Falken's laser, I could not catch what happened afterwards since I myself began to roll my Falken to the right. I didn't turn too hard, initially, but after my missile warning alerts went off, my hand forced itself to maneuver my plane to evade by any means possible. I almost knocked myself out with the sharp turn I executed in my last attempt to dodge a missile by drastically increasing my altitude. After I successfully dodged the last of the wave of missiles, I heard a distant explosion. Uneasy, I hoped that the explosion was not from one of the enemy missiles.

"What the hell was that? Archer, report!" Although his concern sounded merely subtle, the enemy commander generally maintained his commanding tone.

"Damn it. I think it was a laser; he just shot down Gene… I'm really sorry, Cassidy." As the enemy pilot under the callsign Archer reported to his commander so sympathetically, I was reminded of myself even more.

"What the hell is this? Don't apologize for anything, Archer! You followed your orders and it's my responsibility for issuing it to begin with - but damn it, forget about it," Even though he, understandably, sounded a little more irritated, the composure of his voice remained the same, "Take Demon Squadron out of there now and rejoin with the rest of the Wing. Rei, I'm delegating command authority over the wing to you… maintain course, and for the love of God, take care of yourself. I will personally deal with the enemy."

As I turned my head towards the pitch black haze, an even smaller speck of black emerged from it. This was no doubt the man Cassidy, who apparently commanded the enemy unit…

And that was when he finally snapped at us again, "You bastards! Your means… they're repulsive! I will show you the true beauty behind the Razgriz!"

A godly flash of white glistened in the distance as my missile warning alert went off again. As I caught a glimpse of what the flash was as I began to turn my Falken in order to evade, I realized that he was using a weapon reminiscent to Lyes' own Starburst.

"Damn it, that's the original ADMM!" Volkov exclaimed, "Son, it looks like the enemy pilot is after me, just do what you have to do. I'm leaving it… to you."

Before I could question what he meant, I realized that we were speaking on the same frequency that the enemy was using. After another turn and a drastic change of altitude, my missile warning alerts stopped. Noticing that I maneuvered myself to very close proximity from the enemy commander's subordinates, I finally realized what the Captain meant. I knew it'd be better to not say anything about it, however, as he himself sounded considerably consumed by his dogfight.

"Damn, that's pretty sharp flying for a Tomcat," I heard my Captain on the radio.

The enemy commander went off, "Shut up. Just shut up and die, damn it! This is no ordinary Tomcat, you graceless bastard! This here Tomcat will be your death!"

Before I could even lock on to a single plane within the enemy wing formation, I caught sight of something else through the clouds that provided an even better target. Spotting a very round shape protruding from a jumbo jet's silhouette from afar, I found the enemy's AWACS. Without saying anything on radio, I began to pursue it. I knew that survival was a priority, but I simply could not leave my Captain alone in making an effort against our enemy.

It was time for me to take action on my own.

* * *

"Thunderhead here, damn it I think one of the enemy planes caught notice of us! Someone help us, now! Nagase!" The veteran radio operator desperately called out on the radio. 

"Commander… Thunderhead is not directly affiliated with the organization of Razgriz Wing, would you find his loss significant to the effectiveness of the accomplishment of our mission?" Hearing Rei's voice speak those words so softly on the radio, the veteran aboard the Thunderhead was at a loss for words.

"Rei, I delegated authority to you for a reason!" Cassidy was consumed with his own matters, engaged in an unproductive turning fight with his opponent.

A long period of silence followed Cassidy's statement, until finally, a young Estovakian pilot by the name of Sergei Kush finally made himself known.

"Uhlan 2, here, fox two, fox two!"

The Thunderhead was struck.

"Nagase, damn it," the veteran radio operator cried, "Thunderhead here, we're heavily damaged, and we'll now have to leave the combat area!"

"Archer, engage the lone enemy pilot to give Thunderhead the necessary room to make its escape," Rei's voice remained soft, even given the present crisis, "Just don't die, Litt."

"Roger that, Nagase! I myself will confront this enemy targeting our AWACS! Hang in there, Thunderhead…" Being one of the youngest pilots within Razgriz Wing, Hans Litt felt intensely anxious as he maneuvered his F-14X towards the smoking trail in the distance - the resolution of this crisis would be up to him.

_Nagase entrusted me to help out Thunderhead… I might have let Gene down earlier, but I can't let this happen, anymore! I can't lose._

* * *

_It looks like I won't be able to finish off the enemy AWACS... although it does seem to be retreating._

_So that Archer... his name is Hans Litt, huh? I wonder what kind of family he might have..._

_As hard as it may be for me in the end, I cannot allow myself to get defeated by Archer. I have too much at stake... I can't let the Captain down... I can't leave Melinda alone..._

_I'm going to have to shoot down Archer, no matter what!_


End file.
